


Feeblemind

by ToTillAGarden



Series: Feeblemind [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Background Relationships, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Memory Alteration, basically all the angst you could get, but this fic isnt about relationships, i just thought with davenchurch i should add the tags, kinda mind control but not really, some of them are. present in their respective chapters?, theres graphic violence but. it isnt described very graphically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-02-23 10:17:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToTillAGarden/pseuds/ToTillAGarden
Summary: 9 characters, 8 scenarios, 1 spell - or, alternatively, 8 ways Angus's birthday can go very, very wrong.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first ever longfic is officially in the works! Hot damn!
> 
> Thanks to the Taz Fic Writers discord for all of your love and support, thanks to Seren (@inkedinserendipity on tumblr) for Enlightening me to this good good angsty spell, but a super special thanks to Myles (@transdavenport) and Tess (@stargirls) for being amazing betas and fantastic friends!!! This chapter honestly wouldn't have gone up without you - how I got such great writers to back me up, the world will never know.
> 
> Some technical information:  
> -This won't have regular updates, unfortunately! If I stay as ahead of schedule as I am right now you won't have to wait too long, but that's me being optimistic, so....  
> -I'll tag triggers per chapter - each of them is different in its own way, so that's going to be easier, I think! Feel free to skip if something does trigger, though; each one is independent of the other.
> 
> As always, I hope you like the read! This is just a prologue, but the angst is coming, I can assure you.  
> Feedback is always still good, though!!!

There were eight other people on the far-speech conference call, but it was Angus who responded. “What do you mean a change of plans, sir?”

“What my dear brother meant,” Lup interrupted, “is that the two boneheads and I got a very important mission scheduled during our planned family bonding time.”

“To be more specific, there’s this necromantic cult we’ve been chasing for months.” Kravitz filled in for her. “And we finally got a lead on one of its members… Unfortunately, with bad timing.” 

“So,” Barry continued, “we were thinking… if maybe we’d make catching this necromancer our family bonding time instead?” He laughed—one of his signature nervous ones. “It should be safe—we only have a lead on one of them, so he might be the only one there, and even if the whole cult was there, there’s eight of us—”

“And we’re the heroes of the known planar system,” Taako finished smugly. 

“Of course, we can always reschedule,” Kravitz added. “But it is your birthday, so we thought we would let you choose.”

Angus thought about it for a minute, and then smiled. “That sounds good to me, sirs! It can be a good magic lesson too.”

“Perfect.” Kravitz smiled—he had been stressing over the complications for days before taking it to the group, and he was afraid Taako had already gotten tired of his worrying. “So—everyone else—meet me, Lup and Barry at the gates out of Neverwinter—the ones closest to the Felicity Wilds—at about nine in the morning tomorrow.” 

Taako interrupted him with a held-back laugh—his husband wasn’t usually so formal around him—but Kravitz ignored him, all too used to his teasing. “We’ll intercept the bounty in the forest itself. Questions? Objections?”

“Um, sir—why would a necromancer be in the Felicity Wilds at nine in the morning?”

Barry laughed. “He’s making a deal with a particularly stupid guy—a shady merchant with actually reasonable business hours.” 

Lup smiled. “We should start hitting this guy up—we’ve caught like three bad boys using his weird-ass business practices already.”

Kravitz sighed. “Anything else?” He paused, looking through the stone. “Lucretia, you seem worried.”

“No, I’m alright, thank you.” She chuckled—a tired laugh more than anything. “I just wasn’t expecting tomorrow to be so… fast-paced.”

“Lu—Lucretia’s right,” Davenport answered. “We should all get some sleep. You especially, Lucretia, but. Everyone needs their rest.”

“Is that an order, Captain? If you don’t, we could have other plans…” Merle’s wink and signature smirk somehow worked their way into his tone of voice, to the dismay of basically everyone else in the call.

He sighed amidst everyone else’s groaning and protest—“ _ Y-Yes,  _ Merle, i-it is an order, gods,  _ goodnight _ — _ ”  _ and then promptly hung up.

 

Angus took the stone off his neck and placed it on the nightstand, still laughing from the end of the call. A battle the next day meant he had to have his wand ready—he did—and his spell slots replenished—he didn’t, yet—and he would get to see his family, all together, in action, on his birthday!

Besides Junior’s projections, that would be a first.

 

~

 

The battle went off without a hitch. The wizards in the party stayed back, batting off spells and letting the battle go on mostly for Angus’s sake, him watching in awe behind a shield of Lucretia’s own making. And as the fighting raged, it became more and more of a learning opportunity for him; he took notes about spells and technique, and occasionally one of the Birds would stop and show him something only someone with centuries of experience could teach. 

As it came time to finish him off, however, the eight had lowered their guard; and it was then, in a moment of desperation, that the necromancer saw his chance.

 

~

 

In a different world—

They spread out, the eight of them encircling the necromancer, who somehow hadn’t died yet—mostly because the Birds made sure to keep the battle going, and less because he was actually a challenging opponent—and as he turned to fend off a blast of fire, his fearful eyes and panicked look quickly changed to confidence as he figured out how to execute his plan.

 

~

 

In another reality—

The necromancer showed up driven mad with power—whatever the merchant gave him had to have been strong—and started firing spells left and right, rays of darkness and fire and necrotic energy bouncing off the trees and bushes. With that kind of danger, the eight deemed it too unsafe for Angus to stay for too long—they’d find another battle, they promised—and the reapers finished him off quickly…

But not before one of those wayward spells connected with an unsuspecting target.

 

~

 

In an alternate scenario—

They met at the gates of Neverwinter, only to be missing a member.

They very quickly realized it wasn’t worth waiting, and left the gates for the forest, only to find what they weren’t looking for.

 

~

 

Another possibility—

They crowded around each other during the battle. The reapers took the front lines, doing most of the fighting—it was their job, after all. The Tres Horny Boys took the sides and back—they worked well together, could cover all three empty fronts alone, and were more than capable of defending the rest of them. The other three, meanwhile took the middle—Angus needed protection, and Lucretia and Davenport were enough to provide him with that. It was eight against one, so all eight of them didn’t even need to fight; they were well protected, there was no reason why a spell could ever get into the middle of their pack… But then Lup rolled out of the way of a particularly dangerous one, and left a gap in their defenses.

 

~

 

Or, alternatively, Lup was worried where the spell would land and decided to take it herself.

 

~

 

In their luckiest of realities—

They showed up and found a whole section of the cult; a leader, a second-in-command, and about ten of his lackeys, returning from whatever purchase they had just made, and when the leader saw the reapers, and the other six behind them, his eyes widened. He looked around, panicked, searching for some sort of escape, and then looked towards his second and whispered something under his breath. “Keep them busy.”

The leader and his lackeys ran, and hot in pursuit were most of the IPRE—except for the one who stayed behind to fight the second, all alone and easy to hit.

 

~

 

And in their worst of realities—

The necromancer knew their weakness, and worked his hardest to do the unthinkable—

He eventually succeeded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was HIS BIRTHDAY
> 
> OH MY GOD IT WAS HIS BIRTHDAY
> 
> Anyways!!!! In all seriousness:  
> If you're looking for something to comment about, try guessing which scenario matches with which character!! I left most of them vague on purpose so this should be Interesting...
> 
> But otherwise that's it!!! Thanks so much for reading it - if the next update isn't up over this weekend, it'll be up by next weekend, hopefully.  
> See you then~


	2. Magnus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus tries to be sneaky. Merle's a semi-competent cleric.
> 
> Taako's sure it isn't Magnus in there anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heckkkkk yeah got the first chapter out before my flight tomorrow night~
> 
> Thanks to Tess and Kiera for being wonderful and amazing betas and to the discord for encouraging all of this - this was the first chapter I wrote and I plugged it in the chat like maybe??? 200 times??? I'm surprised you all still tolerate me lol
> 
> But, in all seriousness:
> 
> Trigger warning for un-graphically written graphic violence, with blood and gore and dismemberment and all that fun stuff. It's Magnus. You know how it is.
> 
> But!!! If these triggers make you uncomfortable, you're welcome to skip this chapter and wait for the next - each chapter exists on its own, after all.  
> Speaking of that, it's already written - but since I'll be on vacation without much time to write, it'll probably be up next weekend so I can have enough time to still be ahead!!
> 
> Meanwhile, feedback's always appreciated, but I'll see you then~

Magnus, having hung back while the others took time to teach Angus their respective talents, decided to take his turn to do the same.

“Yo! Ango! Bud!”

Angus looked up from his notes. “What is it, sir?”

“You wanna see me use my rogue skills?”

Angus pretended to think about it, then laughed. “Of course I do!”

“Okay—watch.” Magnus smiled, and snuck out from behind the crowd, dipping into the woods behind him. And with the battle raging on, no one noticed as he crept through the bushes—surprisingly quiet for someone so big, Angus noted—made sure his sword was in its sheath, then peeked out of the bushes, signaled to the team to stop firing, and _pounced._

The necromancer, obviously, was too surprised to dodge, and Magnus was very quickly on top of him; the Flaming, Raging, Poisoning Sword of Doom towered over the smaller man’s chest, poised to end it all.

And then, in the span of a second:

Magnus brought his sword down, but not before the necromancer grabbed his wand, pointed it at Magnus’s chest, and fired.

 

The spell hit, and Magnus flew backwards, stunned, and the whole battle froze.

Everyone just stopped moving—the necromancer seemed tired, out of breath, like he channeled all of his power into it. The other seven put their weapons down, Magnus sprawled on the ground between them and their target. Both sides just seemed to be in shock, but it was Lup who broke that silence. “Magnus, are you okay?”

He answered that by standing up, and he seemed to be… fine? But there was something wrong, his eyes weren’t focused and his hands were trembling, and he looked back towards his friends, all battle-worn and hurt, and then towards the necromancer and back again without answering, and he could feel the concern and worry and fear in his friends’ faces, and then just turned around, and narrowed his eyes.

He narrowed his eyes, took out his shield, and charged, the wizard’s face suddenly turning from tired to terrified as he launched spell after spell only for them to bounce off of Magnus’s shield. Magnus, shield still in hand, shoved the man down and pinned him, and pulled out his axe and hacked and slashed and tore through his body, limb by limb until every piece was torn off, slashing symmetrically through his face first, then tearing his stomach open and letting it all fly everywhere, tearing through his arms, ripping muscle from bone by the tendons, letting the blood cover the floor and the sword and his body.

 

And Lucretia looked at it all, and choked out a “Magnus, that’s enough,” before breaking into tears.

And Lup looked at it all, and yelled out, “Magnus, _stop!”_ before Barry took her hand, reminding her that they needed to reap the necromancer’s soul.

And Kravitz looked at it all, and strode up to the scene, about to take Magnus off of him.

And Taako looked at it all, saw Kravitz walk up to Magnus, and said, “Krav. Stop.”

“What?”

“Let him finish.”

 

Besides the gushing sounds of a body being torn apart, it was quiet for a moment.

“Taako,” Kravitz started, “this isn’t okay—”

“ _This isn’t Magnus,_ Krav.” Taako took a breath.

“What do you mean?” Kravitz looked at him. “That’s him, his soul is there—”

Taako shook his head. “The spell that hit him—”

Lup popped out of the portal just in time to finish his sentence. “That was Feeblemind.”

Taako gave her a look as if to say, _way to steal my line_ , and looked back at Kravitz. “With the way that spell fucks a person up, the asshole deserved it.”

Angus fidgeted in Lucretia’s protective embrace, pushing aside the folds of her robes to survey the scene. “Feeblemind? Isn’t that the spell that basically erases a person’s ability to think?”

“Hey, Luce?” Taako shot her a capital L _Look_. “Cover his ears too next time. But yeah,” Taako continued. “The kid’s right.”

“A—All Magnus knows is that. We’re his friends, and that… that necromancer’s a threat to us.” Davenport spoke for Taako, stepping away from Merle, who had just finished healing his wounds.

“So… if we stop him from protecting us… then he’ll probably get upset.” Merle frowned at the thought.

“And with the way he’s tearing apart that guy,” Taako finished, ”who knows what he’ll do to one of us if he decides we aren’t his friends anymore?”

 

It was with that line that Magnus looked up at them.

He looked up, still sitting on the corpse, and he smiled the most _innocent_ smile—and then he noticed their faces, and he frowned, almost seeming… was he concerned?

He had stopped what was hurting them… Why weren’t they proud of him?

He looked around. Did they still need defending?

Then he turned back towards Lucretia and saw her trying to dry her tears, still hiding Angus in her embrace. He stood up from the body and walked up to her, gently, still covered in blood, and everyone backed up but Taako stepped forward, and took out his wand, and Magnus froze in place.

“Not today, big guy.” He sighed, and looked to Merle, who shrugged in confusion.

“What? Is this a healing thing?”

Taako rolled his eyes. “No, I was looking at you because I was hoping you’d kill him instead.”

Davenport sighed. “A—A Greater Restoration would fix it—if you have the slots.”

Merle nodded, and stepped up to him, but not before Lup, having stepped back to go calm down Lucretia, interrupted them.

“Merle, wait—” She took out her own wand and waved it a few times, and the blood disappeared off of Magnus’s body. “You’re going to want to clean him first.”

Merle smiled—a kind of sad, soft smile—and then put his hands on Magnus’s sides, muttering a few words under his breath as the light returned to his eyes.

 

Magnus blinked, a few times, then looked around at his friends. “Hey… guys?”

He paused, for a moment. “What did I do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's something about the thought of Magnus losing his ability to feel mercy and have reason that's still fascinating to me - I hope you all can appreciate? that's not the right word, but I hope you all can kinda see that here!
> 
> There's also something amazing about the way Taako understands Magnus and is able to work out his psyche - the two are best friends and it really shows, and thanks to Tess for helping me think of that!
> 
> ~
> 
> If you need something to comment about and freaking out isn't enough, there's still always time to guess who the next chapters are about! I know it's hard and they're vague, but it's an interesting thought experiment.  
> Or - we can think about what would have happened if Kravitz would have stopped Magnus! That's an interesting one in itself.
> 
> I'll still be responding to comments all week, of course, but as for new updates? I'll be seven hours ahead, so this'll probably be up at weird times, but see you next weekend on the flip side~


	3. Taako

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kravitz leads a search party. Taako's good out here.
> 
> Lup burns all of her spell slots - literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late, guys! I needed to stay ahead, and fuck the chapter after this one was hard. 
> 
> But we're here, and it's Taako's time. Thanks to [Tess](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stargirls) for being a brilliant beta as always and screaming at me a ton, and the whole discord for tolerating the snippets I post!
> 
> Feedback's appreciated, as always!

He might have been expecting the reapers, but he didn’t expect the rest of them.

Everyone knew the Seven Birds—the Day of Story and Song was only a few years prior—and while he acknowledged the possibility of the reaper trio chasing him down, he was _definitely_ not prepared for all Seven Birds with an extra reaper and a child in tow. 

But he knew the story well, and he knew how the Birds fought: Lucretia, if anything, was going to focus her efforts on protecting the kid, so neither of them were worth targeting; Davenport, their captain, was there for coordination and backup—he only fought when he needed to, and this was not the case here; Magnus fought with sword and shield in hand, and so as long as he couldn’t get close, he wasn’t a problem, and the same was true for the reapers with their scythes, but _Taako._ Taako scared him.

Most people underestimated Taako, he remembered, but that was their mistake; he might be a glass cannon in every regard, but he was also the greatest transmutation wizard in the planar system. And, worst of all, Taako was smart enough to know his strengths and weaknesses. The infamous flip wizard knew how to dodge and to attack from afar, so if he didn’t deal with Taako quickly, he was basically screwed.

 

So when his eight opponents spread out during the battle, the necromancer considered himself lucky. It was definitely hard to defend attacks coming from all sides—he couldn’t keep it up for much longer—but them being far apart from each other made each of them an easy target.

Made _Taako_ an easy target. 

As he turned towards Lup to dodge her fire, he whispered a few words under his breath, channeling his energy into a spell. And then he smiled, looked Lup straight in the eyes, and fired his spell behind his back, hitting Taako square in the chest.

Score.

 

And he heard Lup gasp, and he heard Taako step backwards, seemingly off-balance _(fuck yes did he fail the save holy shit thank the fucking gods)_ but he didn’t turn around to see his face. But Lup did see his face, and so did all the others. They saw him get hit, saw him recoil, saw him blink and glance around and see their angry, battle-worn faces and then _bolt_ in the other direction.

The necromancer, however, saw Lup’s reaction. He saw her face contorting into a mixture of hatred and pure anger and utter _panic_ and for a moment he _enjoyed_ it; he reveled in it until her anger turned into power, until she literally burst into flames in front of him, and the flames spread towards him. The air got hotter, and hotter, and hotter, until he too was engulfed, too drunk with his own temporary success to even care about staying alive, hoping that there’d be nothing left of him to throw into the Eternal Stockade.

His hopes were futile, of course, but to Lup, it didn’t matter. She had spent all of the energy she had left on that spell, hoping to kill him as quickly as she could, and now she found herself regretting it. Yet as she felt the world spin around her she managed to stay on her feet, and looked at Magnus, panting, and before she could make out a “Which way did he go?” he replied with a “He went that way.”

And Lup _ran._ She stumbled, but she ran, ran as fast as she could, ran blindly until she made it far enough to not see the others, ran with only adrenaline and the pure regret that she didn’t save a slot to make herself run faster. And she kept going until she was about to faint, kept going until she couldn’t feel her legs anymore, did not stop running until she couldn’t recognize what she was seeing. She ran until she felt herself fall, felt herself crawling forward, and as she faded out of consciousness the last thing she heard was the sound of something _(someone?)_ coming out of the bushes to see her there.

 

~

 

Taako found someone laying on the forest floor. As if his day couldn’t get any worse.

He found himself in the middle of a raging battle, ran out of there because last time he checked, he wasn’t fighting anything for anyone, and then got lost in the forest, only to find someone just laying there. He couldn’t even tell who it was, because their face was flat on the ground and no way in hell was he touching a stranger, but he didn’t want to leave them, either. Something about them seemed…. familiar.

So he sat next to them and waited—it took about half an hour, maybe?—but he waited until they woke up, and they turned over when they did, and _Oh shit, he knew this person, how could he forget—_

 

~

 

Lup woke up to a pounding headache and a mouth full of grass. She’d woken up worse, though, so she rolled over and smiled softly at her brother looking down at her and went, “You could’ve splashed some water on me or something—”

And then, as he scrambled back at hearing her talk, it hit her all over again, and she tried to sit up, to move towards him, to comfort him. “Taako….” 

As she struggled to get up he seemed to panic; he looked at her and as she tried to say more to comfort him, his breathing became more rapid and he looked around frantically and she could tell he felt the urge to run again. And yet she tried to sit up again, tried to make her posture more comfortable so she could somehow keep him from leaving, but this time, when he saw how much pain she was in, something seemed to click. His face lost its panic and turned to…. determination? Something like that.

But he seemed to know what to do, because he immediately came back to her side and, after a moment of hesitation, grabbed her sides and pulled her gently towards a tree and leaned her back against it; and then he sat down next to her, back straight against the trunk of the tree and legs crossed in perfect posture, and squeezed her hand tight. He held her hand and everything went quiet, for a moment, but it was only after his grip loosened that Lup got the courage to turn her head and look at him, noticing him staring blankly into the distance, mind too empty to think. 

And as she looked at him, as she saw his empty expression and felt his hand in her own, she couldn’t help but cry. It was a quiet cry, the kind where her eyes teared up without her wanting them to, but Taako seemed to snap back to reality as he heard her sniffle and his eyes widened—it was the most worried she’d seen him in ages—and he took her hand again, and held it tight, and she turned around slightly to hug him and he stiffened for a moment but eventually relaxed.

That hug, eventually, turned into her sitting on his lap and him letting her rest her head on his shoulder. And sitting there in the forest, now comfortable, Lup let her sobs become heavy, her chest heaving with every breath, and Taako rubbed circles into her back and whispered nonsense into her ear.

 

~

 

She fell asleep, eventually, and then Taako was alone with his thoughts again; or, well, lack of. She was on top of him, now, and he didn’t really seem to care? He couldn’t move much, but. She was his friend. 

No, wait, she was more than a friend, she was his sister and she seemed hurt and tired and sad and he didn’t know what he did to let her get that way but whatever it was he’d try his hardest not to do it again. 

 

So he tried to think about that, but quickly lost his train of thought, and spent the next half hour or so just absorbing his surroundings, taking in everything over and over again only to forget it all minutes later. And then he heard voices—they seemed kind of on edge? And worried. But more importantly, they were coming towards him, and he couldn’t run, not with someone on his lap. And then they stepped into view, and Taako recognized them, and he relaxed, but only for a moment.

 

These were his friends. He knew that much. But if they were his friends, and they found him, then why did they seem so worried?

 

~

 

Kravitz took the lead in searching for Taako. It felt natural, after all, but Kravitz knew that even with whatever tracking abilities being a reaper gave him it would still take a while to find him. The elf was fast, and had about a half hour lead—Kravitz and Barry had to actually collect their bounty before they could look, after all—and with everyone else following, they couldn’t Blink. So they walked, tracking the old-fashioned way, talking the whole time just to try and keep their motivation up, and eventually, it was Barry who spotted someone in the distance, nestled quietly under a tree.

And sure enough, it was Taako—he held a sleeping Lup quietly on his lap—and as they approached he tensed, but then as he recognized them he relaxed, and then seemed worried? As if something was wrong. And so Kravitz motioned to everyone else to stay back, and walked towards Taako, who held Lup tighter the closer he got. And then Kravitz crouched down to Taako’s eye level, and looked towards Lup, and asked, “Can I wake her?”

Taako tilted his head a little bit, but didn’t resist until Kravitz moved his hand to tap her shoulder, where he moved Lup away as much as he could.

Kravitz sighed—more sad than frustrated—and he sat down in front of Taako, and put his hand on his knee. “Taako, please.”

Taako blinked, not knowing how to react for a moment, and then took a hand off of Lup’s back and put it on Kravitz’s, and as Taako smiled Kravitz frowned. He let go of Taako’s hand with some difficulty—after holding on, Taako didn’t seem to want to let go—and then put his hand on Lup’s shoulder, and Taako looked at him suspiciously. 

“I know you can’t understand… but she’ll get some rest afterwards, I promise.”

Taako didn’t respond, so he shook her shoulder gently to wake her. She stirred not long after, and muttered, “Taako…?”

He smiled at her as she woke up, one of those soft, gentle ones, yet his eyes were still blank, empty of that glint, and then Kravitz interrupted their moment. “Lup, we could really use your help.”

She got off of him after that, and held his hand and reassured him as Merle cast Greater Restoration on him, and then Taako blinked and shook his head and looked at his friends around him, at all their tired faces, and then looked at himself, and sighed.

 

“You all never saw this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello yes I love twin and taakitz feels and I hope you did too~
> 
> If you need something to comment about: just yell at me, honestly. This is a good time to do that, because the next chapter isn't as angst-packed - at least, not in the very direct and in your face way as this one was.
> 
> I have no idea when I'll be up with the next chapter - probably in about a week or so! See you then!


	4. Merle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merle stops to smell the flowers. Taako pretends not to care.
> 
> Davenport panics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long - I lied about when I could update this and I'm sorry - but I'm back with some more angst! And to round off the Tres Horny Boys, it's Merle's turn~
> 
> Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, though - while the past buffer chapter was incredibly difficult, this one's not going to be as hard! I have some faith in myself when this next character's concerned, and I'm back on a regular schedule now!
> 
> Thanks, as always, to [Tess](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stargirls) for being a fantastic beta, and to the whole discord for screaming at me as I wrote the chapter after this one. I love you all, and would 100% die for Tess, especially when you yell at me as you're beta-ing <3
> 
> Feedback's always super duper appreciated, of course! Enjoy the read.... or well don't, it's kind of painful!

With the amount of magical energy emanating from the forest clearing, even Angus could have found the necromancer. Heck, even  _ Magnus _ could have found him; there were so many rays of death launching from that one forest clearing it almost seemed like the guy was having a temper tantrum.

 

And when they got there, Lucretia’s shield surrounding Angus from the moment they entered the Wilds, they found the necromancer having… pretty close to a temper tantrum, honestly. He was more drunk on power, but also angry that he had all this magic he couldn’t control, and was launching tens of spells at a time—not the best fight to teach Angus a few tricks after all.

Kravitz, taking the lead as they walked, turned back to them and frowned at the sight. “It might be better for us to deal with this alone… We’ll have some duels after, maybe?” 

Angus nodded from inside the bubble, and the reapers rushed into the clearing, scythes out, while the others watched.

They were terrifyingly in sync—Lup and Barry covered both Kravitz and themselves, blasting spells out of the air with their own as he approached the necromancer—and yet, despite their talent and their opponent being too immersed in his own rapid-fire spellcasting to even notice them, it still took them time to get close without getting badly injured. So in the while it took them to approach and eventually reap the man, everyone watched intensely, noticing their strategy, but no one paid attention to the stray spell or two that went their way.

 

At least, not until the reapers returned from the Astral Plane—they’d do their paperwork later—and Kravitz asked if everyone was okay, the three of them doing a mental headcount of their guests, and Barry interrupted their now relaxed nods.

“Wait—where’s Merle?”

“Wha—What do you mean, ‘Where’s Merle’? H-He’s—oh.” Davenport looked to where Merle was a moment earlier, noticing that he had left since then. 

Barry looked at the crowd. “He didn’t tell any of you he was leaving, did he?”

They shook their heads.

“He couldn’t have gone far, sirs—” Angus interrupted their various  _ no _ ’s and  _ nah _ ’s and  _ why would he tell me? _ “He’s not the type to run, and even if he did, he’s a dwarf.”

“Angus is right.” Kravitz smiled at him, the boy beaming back at the recognition. “If he wandered off, he should be back in a moment, and wherever he went, it shouldn’t have been too far either.”

“W-We can wait for a few minutes,” Davenport interrupted, “and if—if he doesn’t show up, we can split up and look for him.”

“Okay. Sounds like a plan.” Barry plopped down on the grass, and then winced. “Krav, do you have some bard magic left in you?”

Kravitz nodded, and walked over to him, and sat down, whistling a tune softly as the wound on his side stitched itself back together, and then moved to his other side to heal a cut on his arm only to stop in his tracks. “Wait—”

“I saw him too, Krav.” Taako, now sitting in the air, guessed his question for him, and Blinked further into the forest where Merle was—as he thought—admiring the flowers on one of the bushes in maybe the most innocent way he’d ever seen Merle look at a plant. “Come on, you old fart, you’ve got your own garden full of these.”

Merle turned around, following Taako out of the clearing as the elf turned around and left, and while everyone else seemed relieved to see Merle intact, Davenport still looked concerned.

“Merle, a—are you alright?”

“Yeah he was just—” Taako tried to explain, but his captain cut him off.

”No—” His voice almost sounded nervous, an emotion he didn’t normally show. “Look at his face.”

Taako looked at Merle—at his empty, childlike smile—and then answered. “You think he got charmed or something?”

Davenport shook his head. “I-If he’s not speaking, it’s—” He paused. “It’s worse than that.”

“So if he kinda looks like he’s charmed, but can’t talk or understand—”

“Then it’s Feeblemind.”

“Damn it, stop cutting me off, Cap’n—wait, Mags?” Taako raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you know the symptoms of eighth level spells?”

Magnus frowned. “Julia and I.... A few years into the revolution, one of our best friends—and rebel higher-ups—got kidnapped.” He thought about it for a bit. “We found her in the forest, looking kinda empty like that. More lost and less happy, though. Our cleric was working to get her back to normal... but I guess he never got to.”

Taako scowled, looking at Merle for an instant before remembering he couldn’t return the look. “As if I needed another reason to kill the guy.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Taako quickly replaced the anger on his face with concern, swatting away Merle’s hand when the dwarf tried to reassure him. 

“If it’s Feeblemind, though, then we’ll need Greater Restoration.” Lup spoke up, and everyone turned to look at her. “And Merle can’t heal himself… Krav?”

He shook his head. “I’ve used all my slots, sadly.”

She thought about it for a moment. “We can go back to Neverwinter—”

Davenport shook his head. “If anything, let’s avoid turning this into a news story.”

“Um—” Lucretia interrupted, having been deadly quiet until then. “If all you need is Greater Restoration, then the Bureau can help.”

“You’re saying we take him up to the base?” Taako looked at her. “Because the kid and I here have better things to do.”

Lucretia looked at him. “Taako…”

He ignored her.

“Lucretia.” Davenport broke the silence. “Can a cleric from the Bureau come here?” 

She nodded. “I’ll call one down right now.”

 

~

 

The wait, for Davenport, was hell.

 

Lucretia spent the time talking through her Stone; and the reapers, Taako, and Magnus entertained Angus with stories and the occasional spell or technique. But Davenport couldn’t leave Merle alone, couldn’t help but fear that he’d walk away, so he sat quietly with him in the grass as Merle stared at the sky and watched his friends with fascination and occasionally tried to hold his husband’s hand or get cuddly. Every time Merle tried to touch him, Davenport couldn’t help but stiffen or shy away, trying not to look at his face or remind himself that despite Merle now knowing so little, he still remembered that he loved him enough to kiss him.

So he tried to think of something else, kept looking at the trees around him in the hope that the cleric Lucretia sent for would come already, wanting to join the conversations the others were having but knowing his mind was too messy to contribute. Yet he couldn’t break down, couldn’t lose it, because if he expressed how worried he really felt Merle would get concerned.

But by the way Merle looked at him, by the way he traced a cut on Davenport’s arm as if trying to heal it or how he tried to hug him and then seemed startled at his response, Merle was already concerned. It made sense; Davenport was good at denying his emotions, not hiding them, and Merle couldn’t understand his denial anymore. He didn’t accept it even when he did understand it. 

So he kept trying to make Davenport feel better, attempting to heal in whatever way he still could, but it only made it worse, Davenport feeling himself losing his composure with every single moment, every second that went on when Merle wasn’t talking to him again, when he wasn’t on his ship, when he was drowning in his own feelings and deafening himself with his thoughts and—

 

When did Merle leave?

 

~

 

Taako pretended not to care. He pretended not to care when he found Merle, and he pretended not to care when Lucretia dropped Merle off in the middle of their conversation, saying Davenport needed some space, but when the dwarf immediately clung to Taako and held his hand and Magnus broke the silence with an “Oh, shit, Taako, Merle likes you!” it was a little hard to pretend not to care.

“Of course, everyone loves Taako,” he smirked, but pulled his hand away from Merle’s. Merle, meanwhile, noticed Magnus’s very futile attempt to hide his worry with a joke and walked over, patting his sides as if trying to comfort him. 

Lup laughed at the sight—one of her more gentle laughs, yet a laugh nonetheless. “Taako, I think you jinxed it.”

“Shut up, Lulu, you know he’s still one of my top ten biggest fans.” Taako elbowed her in the ribs.

Barry conjured an illusory flower in his hand, waving it a little before it got Merle’s attention, and he walked over. “Can’t have Merle be your fan without flowers there.”

Taako mock-gagged. “Yeah, Barold, I definitely want Merle fucking a plant in my fan club meetings. Thanks for putting that vision in my head, homie.”

“Um—” Angus interrupted them, very much wanting to change the subject. “Does everyone with Feeblemind cycle between friends like that?”

Barry shook his head. “Everyone responds differently to it, actually—I think Merle’s just touchy, for example.”

“And indecisive.” Lup added. “You should have seen our dinners, Ango—he’d spend  _ hours _ just picking what he wanted to eat, it was hell.”

“Wait, Barold—” Taako interrupted, but Barry cut him off.

“Please, god, don’t ask how I know.” Barry gave him the ‘it’s a long story’ look, and Lup laughed.

“Up to what level magic theory did you take at the Institute again?” she teased, and he sighed.

“Only third level, actually—we just went on a tangent in necromancy club one time, and—” He laughed, looking at an utterly exasperated yet unsurprised Kravitz.

“You were in  _ necromancy club?”  _

“It was in college!” Barry protested, still laughing. “And it was on my resumé.”

“You know I didn’t read that.” Kravitz smiled.

“Really? But I worked so hard on it…” Barry mock-frowned, and Merle went over to him, trying to comfort him. “Aw, shit, thanks, Merle.”

“But yeah, Barry’s right.” Lup brought them back on topic. “Everyone responds to every enchantment spell differently—it’s why it’s such a weird school of magic to master.”

Barry nodded. “Feeblemind’s no exception to that, either—it just kinda strips everyone down to their core, really. Removes every aspect of their personality besides the things they can’t really get rid of. So Merle kinda gravitates to emotion: he likes to help people who feel sad but also thinks happiness is contagious, so likes surrounding himself with happy people. That’s kinda why he’s been hopping between all of us; he can’t decide whether he wants to spread happiness or receive it, but whenever someone’s kinda sad or out of it, he’ll go to them first. Like—get him to notice Taako now.”

“What?” Angus looked up at the elf before it clicked in his head. “Oh. Taako, sir?”

Taako snapped back to reality. “Yeah, kid?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, boychik, don’t worry about it.” He ruffled his hair, but as Merle noticed the conversation he walked right over and tried to take Taako’s hand. The elf took a step back, and when Merle tried to hold his hand again, he took another.

And when everything went quiet, Taako turned on his heel. “Someone take him. I’m going to check on Capn’port.”

 

~

 

The cleric came twenty-nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds after Lucretia flicked her Stone on. She counted, because that’s what her brain did when she was tense.

When they healed Merle, his smile turned so much more real, she noted; the light returned to his eyes and wrinkles appeared under them, and he looked at everyone and gave the face that instantly felt reassuring, and then said, “Miss me?”

And right as Taako joked, “No,” Davenport laughed and said, “Yes, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey uhhhhhhh... Did I mention I love Davenchurch? And love how much Taako cares about his friends? Because I do.
> 
> As for things to comment about, you guys have been doing a great job already! We can talk about how we feel about plant goofs, or, for those of you who are in the discord, tell me about how you're going to die next chapter, but you all have been doing an awesome job so far <3
> 
> See you on the flip side~


	5. Lucretia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucretia goes missing. The reapers lose their bounty.
> 
> Taako, despite himself, has a one-sided conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god okay it's been a long time but... I'm actually really proud of this chapter! So, I hope you all appreciate it as much as I do, because it's a labor of love.
> 
> A few thank-yous before you read:
> 
> Thanks so so much, of course, to [Tess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargirls) for being a fabulous beta and a true friend - I owe you the world, and your editing is worth paying for. Also? I live for your comments on the doc, just thought you should know.
> 
> A huge, huge, huge thanks to [Natto](http://nattoppet-dj.tumblr.com) for making the most amazing Feeblemind/wished Taako art and a universe all on your own? Yet in every one you still credit me as your inspiration, and honestly it's brought this fic attention beyond what I could possibly comprehend, so god bless.
> 
> And also an enormous thanks to [Albee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voidfish%22%22) and [Crindy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcrindy) for writing super amazing fics inspired off of Feeblemind! They're definitely at the top of my recs list, and its not because I'm biased - Albee and Crindy are two amazing authors who I can't imagine writing for _me_ , and they both have such fantastic takes on the spell that are worthwhile, especially because they're different than mine.
> 
> Oh, also - thanks to [Mango](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malevolentmango), for being my favorite twin and yelling at me a bunch and constantly reassuring me and my writing! I'm more than honored to be your friend, and sorry for delaying wonderland work for this <3  
> And also a thanks to the rest of the TFW discord for all of your support and many Feeblemind WIPs! I couldn't have done this without you and I love you all.
> 
> And, last but not least, thanks to all of you? I. looked at the statistics for Feeblemind today and I think I almost cried; numbers shouldn't mean anything, but 1000 hits and over 150 kudos and!! 25 comment threads!!! and the subscriptions and bookmarks make about 100 total and that is. so much more than I deserve!!! I hope this chapter can be my small way to repay you all for all the support you've given, because I certainly don't think I can pay it in full, but I'll keep working hard and keep writing, if only for all of you.
> 
> Ok, now that all of that's done with - gosh, what a support network - I hope you enjoy the read! This one's an angsty one <3  
> And, of course, feedback's always appreciated!

“Where’s Lucretia?” Kravitz’s voice broke through the multiple conversations the other seven were having. “She’s not usually late—did anyone hear from her?”

Everyone shook their heads, looking at each other in mild confusion.

“She could have overslept?” Magnus shrugged. “She did seem tired last night.”

“Sh-She wouldn’t oversleep—i-it’s not like her.” Davenport said what they were all thinking. “Either she—either she never slept and just didn’t notice the time, or got busy last minute.”

“If she got busy, she’d let us know.” Lup interrupted. “It’s probably the first one, and if she doesn’t notice by the time we’re done, we’re having an intervention while Taako makes lunch.”

They all nodded, and turned to leave, but Kravitz turned towards Merle and Davenport before they could get anyone. “Since Lucretia’s not here, can you two cover Angus?”

They nodded, Davenport lowering his voice as he did when he got serious. “W-We don’t want him getting hurt just as much as you do, Kravitz.”

“I know you don’t.” Kravitz smiled softly, and Taako gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“He’s just a sap.” Taako laughed. “Ango’s got this.”

“I’m not saying he can’t handle it!” Kravitz crossed his arms. “I’m just… worried.”

“Well, don’t.” Merle smiled—that type of smile that somehow reassured everyone. “We’ve got him covered.”

 

* * *

 

When they got to the clearing, they didn’t just find the necromancer.

In fact, he was maybe the least important thing in the area at that particular moment. He didn’t matter, not when there were glyphs all over the trees and in the ground and there were stripes of charred or poisoned or frozen grass that cut the clearing in two; he didn’t matter when bones still lay on the floor in the midst of perfect circles of wilted flora, or when the air was fizzling where rifts between planes had been opened, or when there were bubbles of anti-magic or protection still fading.

He didn’t matter especially when they spotted one of those bubbles that radiated with the magical energy only a Grand Relic could create without a caster, and inside, on the grass, in fetal position, was Lucretia.

They couldn’t reach her through the bubble, they knew that much, but the great majority of them ran to her anyway, making sure she was breathing, noticing the various scratches that had opened across her arms and the unnatural thinness of her figure, as if her body withered from the fight yet otherwise wasn’t hurt much. But besides that, besides the obvious coma and scars, Lucretia seemed… peaceful. Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed like it only did when she slept, her arms wrapped around herself tight; she was vulnerable, innocent, _young_ , even, and it was then, when she was hurt and downed and protected only by the power of her staff, did they all remember that she was still their baby Luce.

And there she was. If they tried hard enough, they could pretend she was sleeping.

 

So they kept their attention on Lucretia, the necromancer being largely an afterthought—or, at least, most of them did. Taako, instead, turned toward the necromancer, his stilettos not digging once into the dirt as he strode over to him, his new Umbra Staff twirling in his hand only to come to a stop when it pointed directly at his chest. And as they doted on her, as the necromancer stared in shock at the scene, as the grass stayed dead and the wards remained carved in the tree bark and as the action seemed to have already been long gone, Taako smiled, one of those lazy ones that served as a veil over the layers and layers of feeling.

And then three things happened at once.

 

First, a spell launched out of Taako’s staff, him having barely spoken a word.

Then, the necromancer panicked. He knew this spell. He didn’t know it was coming. He knew he could get out, but was too in shock to act—until now. He panicked, and squealed out the words of a spell, and disappeared.

And then, not a moment later, the tree behind the necromancer turned into ash.

 

Everything went quiet, for a moment. Taako stared at his hands. The rest of them stared at Taako. And then, under his breath, Taako just whispered, “Fuck.”

 

* * *

 

After the bubble faded, the other eight took Lucretia to Taako’s Neverwinter apartment. It took a bit of convincing on—everyone’s part, honestly—but eventually, Taako reluctantly agreed; it was the closest place for Lucretia to rest, and them owing Taako a favor meant no one would talk about what he just did.

Well, besides Lup, but seeing as the three reapers went back to their mission as soon as they finished helping to drop Lucretia off, she had the right to complain about it. She knew him well enough not to dig into the details, though.

 

So with the reapers gone and Angus wanting to start a soccer game in the park nearby, Taako insisted on making dinner for when they all got back. It was… a way to avoid exercise, more than anything, but he also knew how much more his family enjoyed his food when they were all tired. 

As much as he hated to admit it, Taako took every compliment to heart.

 

With that logic in mind, he stayed home, and he made a feast; one with a million different salads, from coleslaw to eggplant salad to beets because Magnus had a weakness to the spicy ones his aunt always made for Lup along with the simpler salad Angus liked. And to that first course he added bourekas with cheese or potatoes, take your pick, except the pizza ones were only for Angus no matter how much Magnus asked, and ravioli as the main event. It was fairly simple—he tried to tailor it to Angus’s tastes, and the boy had a small weakness for dairy, if he made sure to take his lactate pills—except he made everything by hand, including the ravioli. Two different pots of pasta, all from scratch, sauces included, because (he wanted it to take as long as it possibly could) who used pre-made pasta anymore? And as the pasta was boiling and the pastries were in the oven he triple-checked Angus’s birthday cake was still in the fridge from yesterday, because if the meal was perfect then the dessert had to be as well; and then, as he finished it all, he taste-tested everything once, twice, and then once again, because what else was he going to do as everything was cooking? Sit around and remember that Lucretia was in the room next door?

 

But he eventually finished, everything still cooking but nothing really left for him to do, so he sat down and watched Fantasy Chopped and played music on top of that, filling the house with a full layer of noise. He’d occasionally go back to check on the food, but wouldn’t pause it as he did, instead letting it play in the background as he stirred the pasta a bit more or took pastries out of the oven. Even when he was lying across the length of the couch, his legs crossed and hanging off the edge, he wasn’t listening anyway; his foot tapped the air in front of him and his hand fidgeted with a loose thread in the fabric of the couch below and his thoughts went from the TV to changing the song playing to the occasional scorch mark on the ceiling to the small buzz of static that always grew stronger when he was stressed.

 

And yet, despite his futile, noise-filled attempt to numb his thoughts, he still heard Lucretia walk into the living room. He didn’t dare look back at her, didn’t see the blank look on her face and the way she hugged her staff instead of using it to help her walk, just heard the pitter-patter of her feet and the slightly heavier breathing of someone still hurt and tired from battle.

The only way he acknowledged her presence, really, was when he lazily swung one of his arms over the back of the couch, pointing behind him, and said, “The door’s that way.”

 

She looked to the door, then looked back at Taako, still silent, still hugging her staff as it whispered into her mind—but that wasn’t what she was supposed to do. She was supposed to nod and turn away, supposed to mutter a “Taako—” under her breath or ask shyly where everyone was or compliment him on the home she’d never seen, but she didn’t; and it was then, in that silence, that Taako turned back to look at her.

“What the fuck happened to _you_?”

She flinched.

He narrowed his eyes.

She stared.

 

It clicked.

 

* * *

 

The first thing he did, while Lucretia stood there and watched, was get up, grab his Stone of Farspeech from the table, and dial Merle’s frequency and hope to Istus he would answer. He didn’t, but Magnus did—and once he heard Lucretia was hurt enough to need Merle again, he didn’t ask any questions. Yet as he did it Lucretia walked quietly towards him, still nervous in the space but hearing the voice of a friend through the Stone, and peeked over his shoulder as he hung up and slipped the necklace back onto his neck.

And he sighed, realizing that even though he called Magnus as soon as he could, it was still a good half hour before any of them made it home. A half hour alone, with Lucretia, who couldn’t understand him and couldn’t talk to him—though maybe that was for the better—and didn’t know what to think of him and _god,_ he couldn’t be angry at her now, couldn’t he?

So he went and turned the music off and left the TV on and plopped quietly on the couch, looking at her and tapping the space next to him with enough noise for her to get the message, and she went and sat next to him, back straight and body stiff, and he went and leaned against the armrest and put his legs across her lap, and she flinched at first but then loosened up a bit, leaning back against the couch to almost match his posture.

“So. Feeblemind, huh?”

She looked at him.

“Yeah, karma’s a bitch.”

It was quiet, for a moment, and Taako watched the way she took her eyes off him to take in her surroundings, watched the moment she realized there was food cooking in the kitchen, watched the way she looked at the furniture and then at her lap and then back at him, and he turned away at that, as if he only remembered the TV existed at that particular moment.

“Now you know how Capn’port feels, I guess.” He said this quietly, more under his breath. “With the whole not talking and shit.”

She blinked, then followed his gaze, letting him look back at her. “I mean—you’re more fucked up, but at least you’re going to get fixed and shit.”

“We didn’t get that fucking privilege, apparently.” Taako watched the way she stared, the way she somehow—for the first time—wasn’t thinking about anything, and quieted down for a moment before starting again. “You just fucked us up with _all the remorse_ in the world, or something, and didn’t bother to ask any of us what we’d think.”

She looked back at him, with that, and they made eye contact for a brief moment before his gaze flitted upward to look at nothing in particular.

“Fuck, Luce, you’re really fucked up, aren’t you?” He laughed; a dry, angry one. “This is worse than that time you fell in love with a succubus and we had to keep you locked up for two weeks.” 

She tilted her head a bit, seemingly confused, and he laughed again. “It’s like that one time Lup totally lost it when Barry died two cycles after becoming liches even though he popped out of his body like. A minute later. She was out of it for _days_ after that.” 

He looked back down at her, and she blinked, and he frowned. “Hope you cherished those memories every day, because I sure as fuck couldn’t.”

She frowned at him, almost… concerned? And he held eye contact, and just said, “Okay, you’re—not allowed to be worried about me right now. My house, my rules, I’m fine, capiche?” 

She blinked, and her look returned to the blank one he was slowly getting used to. “If I were anyone else, I’d be worrying about _you._ Lup would tell me I should, if she were here.” He paused. “If you didn’t Lone Ranger that necromancer, she fucking would be.” 

He shifted his position a little bit, and she watched him do it as he did. “I could have come with you. That necromancer wouldn’t have done shit.”

She tilted her head, almost looking confused.

“Okay, you’re right, I wouldn’t have. Maybe before the whole ‘fucking my whole life up’ thing, though.”

 

The two went quiet—well, it wasn’t like Lucretia could speak anyway—but they went quiet for a few minutes, each of them staring in different directions, before Taako spoke again. “We used to fight together, right?”

Lucretia looked at him, seeming to notice his suddenly sleepy tone.

“Luce and Taako, kicking ass… It doesn’t seem real anymore.”

He paused for a moment, then started again. “So, when you say you miss me, do you miss that Taako? Or broken Taako? Because you don’t fucking know this one, that’s for sure.”

Even the TV seemed to die after that. “It’s not like I’d let you, anyway. You’re lucky Ango exists, because otherwise you’d be fucking gone. Done-zo. No more Madame Director in this elf’s life.”

He looked back up at her, at the face which almost knew what she was saying, but not quite, and couldn’t help but soften. “I guess I could tolerate some more Lucy, though.”

 

The doorbell rang, and Taako sprang off of the couch with a start. “Well, there’re your knights in shining armor.” He sighed, and walked towards it, but not before Magnus started rapidly pushing the button like he sometimes did, and Taako sighed. “Shut up, I’m coming! Jeez.”

 

* * *

 

Lucretia approached him after dinner, after he’d said dishes were on her but had stayed in the kitchen despite himself. Everyone else had already left—the reapers had returned mid-dinner, and had taken everyone else into the living room for game night—but Taako stayed, wrapping up all the leftovers and putting them into the fridge and insisting no one was allowed to help him. So as he was working and as she was washing dishes, she got his attention with a, “Taako?”

“Hm?”

“Did you mean what you said?”

“What?”

“Earlier. On the couch.” Her voice got quiet. “When you said you could tolerate me.”

His ears twitched. “Did I say that? Because last time I checked I wouldn’t compliment you if you paid me.”

She sighed. “That’s what I thought.”

“What was that supposed to mean?”

“No—nothing, it’s just—it’s nothing.”

“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’ve got some sort of complaint—”

“Yes, Taako—” She interrupted him. “I’m sure.”

It was quiet for a moment, and then Taako sighed, and walked over to the sink next to her. “Move.”

“What?”

“I’m helping you with the dishes. Scoot.”

She moved over, obediently, and Taako turned on the water before she spoke again. “Why are you doing this?”

“It’ll get done faster if we both do it.”

“Taako, I’ve been doing your dishes since the Day of—”

He shushed her. “Angus probably wants you there, okay? Shut up and clean.”

She smiled, softly, and did exactly that.

He started humming a song as he did. The one she did, back when it was all static to everyone but her.

She didn’t dare join him—he’d notice if she did—but kept that smile going.

He wasn’t lying after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there it is! I hope you like that ending, because I got sappy as fuck.
> 
> I dont think you need help commenting anymore, but if you do, you're welcome to call me out on. projecting my ideal meal on Taako's stress-cooking scene there. Gosh if that isn't the most me mix of Middle Eastern roots and modern tastes ever.
> 
> I'll either be back with this, or Natto's wished!Taako AU, whichever comes first! Though who knows, honestly? I could have other things in store.
> 
> Whatever it is, though, I'll see you guys either then, or in the comments section <3


	6. Davenport

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davenport goes wordless. Lup fights alone.
> 
> Lucretia wishes, somehow, that this wasn't so familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, and this time it didn't take me that long!  
> And of course, after hurting my girl Luce, I just _have_ to hurt my boy Dav, now don't I?
> 
> Shoutout again to [Tess](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stargirls) for beta-ing _two_ chapters tonight, because she's wonderful and amazing and also writing a spinoff for the next chapter that I'm very very nervous about, and to everyone else I mentioned last chapter for being absolutely phenomenal! The fact that I have you all is just... beyond my comprehension.
> 
> Also shoutout to you all for 200 kudos! I've been looking at that number begging that I won't miss 420, and honestly, I never thought I'd ever get to that point ever in my whole life.
> 
> Feedback's appreciated, as usual, though you guys are just fantastic with that, and I hope you enjoy? This one's a good one.

The Seven Birds got into formation almost naturally. They had to protect Angus, and knew how to get it done; they’d done it with Fisher when bandits raided the ship and with the pair of twins Taako and Lup basically adopted one cycle and with many, many dogs, so they couldn’t help but slip into place as the fight started. Kravitz fit into their framework perfectly, staying in between Lup and Barry as if he had been there forever, so the three took the offensive naturally, knowing how to back each other up and slowly progressing towards the necromancer as he launched spell after spell. The latter six, while still keeping watch, mostly stayed quiet; Merle would mutter a few healing words under his breath when he saw one of the three get hurt, and Taako would cover his family when he noticed a spell they couldn’t get to, and Magnus, to the best of his ability, would shield the three behind him, though Lucretia with her arcane wards and Davenport with his illusions could easily cover everything he didn’t.

It was touch and go, for a while—the necromancer kept firing spell after spell after spell, and the reapers and their defense returned in kind, not being able to make much progress but not really getting hurt either—until, mid-battle, the necromancer changed strategies. He kept blocking their attacks, but wasn’t as aggressively on the offensive, instead muttering a longer incantation under his breath. And the three reapers didn’t notice it, at first—they were too busy trying to end it all while they had the chance—so they kept going, not taking any extra defensive action. They used their momentary advantage to get closer, and closer, not noticing the spell until it shined at the tip of the necromancer’s wand, not warning the rest of the team, who had already let their guard down, until he fired, a bolt of sickly white light heading for straight for Lup’s chest.

 

And then she rolled, and the spell kept going, and the split second felt like hours as she watched it go straight toward her family, straight towards the blur of illusions that made up the middle of the circle. She tried to warn them too, tried to yell out a scream, but couldn’t, not before she watched the warped space in the middle of their defenses break under the pressure of the spell.

 

Not before she heard the sound of glass breaking as she watched her captain’s magic shatter.

 

Not before she noticed that it wasn’t the spell hitting the illusion that made it break... but rather the spell hitting Davenport himself, the leftover power still fizzing in the air around him.

 

It was only then, with the loss of her non-existent warning to the wind and the breaking illusion and Davenport’s sharp inhale, that she realized exactly what the spell was. And in that moment, looking at her captain staring wide-eyed at the way his hands trembled, Lup bit her lip, turned to the necromancer, and fired.

 

* * *

 

Lucretia couldn’t help but stare, for a brief moment, after the spell hit. She stared at Davenport, watching the way his eyes widened with a horrible familiarity, looking at how he stared at his hands and the way his knees shook and his ears twitched like always did when he panicked. She looked at him, frozen in her own flashbacks, until she noticed that his mouth was open, like when he used to try to get a word out—

And it was then, in that moment, that she realized he was trying to say his name.

 

Time, at that moment, seemed to catch up with her. She ran to him, kneeling down in front of him like she had done so many times before, her hands hovering slightly above his shoulders like they did when she didn’t know whether he wanted to be held; but this time, he didn’t respond, didn’t look up at her or fall into her arms or even burst into tears. He just…

… stood there.

 

He had never been _this_ broken before.

 

Yet she couldn’t freeze up again, couldn’t abandon him at such a moment, so she picked her staff up from the ground next to her and tapped it on the ground, and a barrier—a Private Sanctum, to be exact—formed around the two, hiding the scene from everyone else. Lucretia couldn’t help but sigh, at that thought: despite all that they had seen over the years, none of her crew deserved to see their captain like this.

But there she was, and there he was—though still in the same position, he had quickly grown more panicked, progressing from hyperventilating to heavy sobbing—so Lucretia sat down against the edge of the barrier and picked him up and held him tight against her chest. He flinched at her touch, at first, and it almost scared her, but she persisted regardless, running a hand through his hair and quietly humming a song from an old music box he owned and counting every breath of his, in, out, in, out, and the seconds in between, hoping to whatever gods were out there that he would eventually calm down enough to be healed.

 

* * *

 

Lup fired, spinning her scythe like a baton in her hands as it let out a blast of radiant light before disappearing into thin air. The necromancer rolled out of the way, and she frowned at him—if he wasn’t going to let this end quickly, she’d have to just fight him herself—and waved her hand to the two other reapers behind her, signaling to them to back off.

“Lup, let us—” Barry spoke up, but Lup quickly shushed him.

“Babe, I love you, but this is mine now. Okay?”

Kravitz raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, bone boy, I’m sure.” She turned back, if only just to emphasize the anger flaring in her eyes. “This isn’t a necromancy job anymore.”

The two looked at each other, then looked back at Lup, then at each other again, and took a tentative step back—and, right when they did, Lup’s hands burst into flames.

 

Their battle became almost like a dance.

Lup launched spell after spell from her hands, fireballs and rays of fire launching from her hands and meteors and missiles hovering around her only to fly towards him; and he jumped and rolled and countered hers with necrotic spells, rays of sickness and death or ghastly hands only barely avoiding her, skeletons erupting from the ground to take the brunt of Lup’s fire and circles of death or wilting forming around him, his eyes turning an inky black or his finger pointing quickly at her as she felt him siphon the life out of her body directly. They came closer, at times, Lup letting the fire spread across her body like a shield and summoning a pair of flaming daggers before taking his poisoned weapons head-on, but other times, after blocking hits or ducking and flipping out of range, the two would get farther again, and the spell-slinging would return, Lup creating tornadoes of fire in her wake as the necromancer siphoned the life force of the now-burning grass that was once under her feet.

 

It was intense, the whole battle brimming with power and movement and energy, and Lup could feel the beat of the battle, felt the frequency in which they exchanged blows, and started to almost… revel in it. She let the fire pull her, propel her forward, drive her movements and fill her with life, and knew the necromancer felt his magic doing the same, the necromantic energy stitching him together and giving him power beyond what he deserved. So they fought, Lup like a falling star, fast and fiery and bold, and the necromancer like venom flowing through a bloodstream, quick and deadly and sly; they kept going, back and forth and blow by blow, Lup trying her best not to lose it and the necromancer trying his best not to lose his life. They kept going, kept fighting, until an inky black tendril—not unlike the ones the necromancer had cast earlier—shot out from his hand, but instead of dodging it, Lup let her hand flare and caught it, taking the necrotic damage easily as she pulled him in closer, and closer, and closer, making the metaphorical game of tug-of-war they’ve been having seem quite literal—

  


Next thing he knew, the two were face to face, Lup holding the handle of her scythe in one hand, the blade cleanly cut straight through his chest.

She had fun fighting, but it was about time she won.

 

* * *

 

It took a while, but Davenport eventually became responsive again. Well, to be specific, it took 378 breaths, but he _did_ relax, his breathing slowing and becoming less erratic the more she counted them. And once he had started to calm down, counting became easier. She allowed herself to get distracted by shaping the barrier around them, strengthening it to withstand the heat—it was heat, she noticed, not the radiant damage that was typical to fighting necromancers—of battle. So when he actually perked up, taking his head off of her shoulder and wiping his eyes, Lucretia almost jumped a little, snapping back to reality.

“Oh, Davenport—you’re awake.”

He turned to look at her, his ears perking up at the sound of her voice, and she put him down, placing him gently on her lap. He shifted slightly in his seat, for a moment, but he quickly abandoned his comfort to look with a childlike wonder at the way the barrier shimmered around him. He got up from her lap about a minute after noticing that, toddling towards the wall of the barrier and touching his nose against the glassy surface, staring at the fog within, tapping it quietly with his nail to hear the clink it made; and Lucretia let out a small laugh at the way his blank eyes almost seemed to glimmer, the excitement of the unknown returning to his face.

“It reminds you of the stars, doesn’t it?” She looked up at the barrier, fixing a few weaknesses in it as she saw them, and then looked back at Davenport when he plopped down next to her. Her staff was still in between them, she noticed—she had put it down next to her earlier, and almost forgot about it—and after Davenport sat down, his attention turned to the relic, him staring curiously at it for a moment. “Is it talking to you?”

Davenport looked up at her, then back down at the staff, and picked it up gently and put it on her lap. She looked at him and couldn’t help but sigh, taking a mental note on the thrall’s effect on low-Intelligence targets, and put it back down on the other side of her. “Its voice may be soft, but it won’t help me, I promise. Thank you, though.”

He smiled at her, gently, as if sensing the pain she was trying her best to hide; and she tried to smile back, only to break a little as she did. “I…” She paused. “I can’t help but feel like this is my fault.”

He tilted his head, a gesture she would make out to be concern and not confusion if it weren’t for the circumstances.

“If you were here, you’d tell me that isn’t the case. That you got hit by the necromancer, and should have been more careful, and that’s the end of it.” Lucretia frowned, looking down at the gnome, who just stared at her, deep in his lack of thought. “But… you responded so negatively to the spell, and…” She trailed off. “That wouldn’t have happened fifteen years ago.”

When he didn’t respond, she kept going. “I thought everyone already seeing you without your memories was bad enough… though I guess it could be worse.” She laughed. “If anything, that only makes it even more horrible. That what _I_ did was even comparable to… to all this.”

She took a breath, and then another, and kept going, not noticing the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I thought it was all over—Feeblemind or not, I was wrong—but I didn’t think—”

Davenport reached up towards her with both hands, and she stopped mid-thought.

“Do you want me to pick you up?”

He reached further, and she obliged, picking him up and letting him cling tightly to her chest as he hugged her, and she couldn’t help but stiffen, at first, before relaxing. “I’m so worried about _you,_ and here you are, watching out for me.” She laughed, more of a pained one than anything. “There’s some kind of irony there, I guess.”

Davenport pulled himself out of the hug to wipe her tears from her cheeks, and she smiled softly at him. “Though you used to do this too, when you lost your memories.”

He looked up at her, his expression brimming with unexpected depth, and she finished her thought as if he’d understand.

“Some things never change, do they?”

 

* * *

 

Lucretia dropped her Private Sanctum after feeling the tug of Taako’s dispel magic from the outside. It was a familiar feeling—back when they were still cycling between worlds, she’d always put one up if someone got injured mid-battle—but the scene she saw when she canceled the spell didn’t feel that way. The clearing was destroyed, which wasn’t atypical, but there wasn’t any blood or the mixed traces of magic that were characteristic when the whole group fought together. It was just… burned, and dead, as if Lup fought the necromancer herself, and Lucretia remembered the way she dodged the blast and held back whatever emotion she was feeling. This wasn’t the time, nor the place. It could happen later.

 

Instead, she put Davenport down, watching as Merle walked briskly towards them and cast Greater Restoration, not sparing a moment to watch his husband in pain; and, as Davenport blinked and stuttered and fell into Merle’s embrace, Lucretia didn’t really care whether he thanked her anymore.

  
This—Davenport being happy, and sane, and _himself_ —was all she really needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, look at me, writing the three characters I've written most of, how classic,
> 
> Anyways, I honestly don't think you need help commenting, so I'll leave this one with no suggestions! Gosh, the fact that you're all here doing it is still so jarring to me - I thank God for you all every day.
> 
> But! This next chapter won't be an easy one, and my midterms are coming up, so you'll either see this next one in the next week or during spring break, honestly. Either way, it's going to be a good one, so I'll hope to see you there, unless I get something else out first - or, just maybe, down in the comments <3


	7. Lup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry gets curious. Taako does a hit. 
> 
> Lup hears voices in her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow it's been a while since? I updated this at all. Or I put out any content really. But I'm back, and before finals come to reap my soul I have TWO chapters for you tonight! The first is this one, and I'll upload the next in a bit, but first, a few things:
> 
> **First and foremost, a trigger warning:** The body horror and gore in this chapter gets a little intense! Please don't read it if that's not your jam! Or, if you still want to, just skip over Taako's whole thing, because that's where it starts. 
> 
> Second - this fic heavily references my [umbrella angst series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/924831), which, I won't lie, I'm really proud of! You can read it without having read those fics, but it'll enrich your experience probably.
> 
> Third - the usual thank you to [my darling girlfriend Tess](archiveofourown.org/users/stargirls) for beta-ing this for me a while back!!! She wrote [her own feeblemind lup fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14213568) for my birthday; and I won't lie, it's definitely better than mine, so go read that and give her some love!! 
> 
> Last, but not least - thank you to everyone who sent me birthday fics and gifts!!! I'm honestly too lazy to link, but Mango, Brin, Boom, and Emi? You all are rockstars and deserve the world, thank you for being the friends I never thought I would have, and Mango and Brin I _promise_ I'll get to your long birthday comments tomorrow if not tonight!
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this one! Feedback's appreciated, as usual <3

This time, as the reapers fought and the others stayed in formation, Lup noticed the spell. She noticed it right as the pinkish-white light began to spark at the edge of his wand, noticed it when he glanced at the illusions her captain created as if looking for a weak point, noticed it when he smirked and when his incantation became more than just a whisper; and she _knew_ the spell too, recognized it from safety seminars and old spellbooks, knew what it could do, knew that she was in between that spell and her family—

 

The thought terrified her, for a moment. The spell fascinated her, for the next.

 

But in the third, she was filled with resolve, with determination; she knew she had to take that spell, had to let it hit her, because it’d be infinitely better than it hitting someone else.

 

So she stood there, watching the bolt of light zip towards her, and contemplated, for a moment, how exactly it would hurt her. Enchantment spells were always interesting, and Feeblemind was no different; but she quickly realized, as it approached, that there was no time to come to any conclusions.

 

Five seconds to speculate about the nature of her personality was not long enough.

 

* * *

 

Lup felt nothing, at first. She felt the emptiness creep up inside of her, start from her heart and bleed through her veins, and then she forgot she had a heart and forgot she had veins and it couldn’t help but feel scarily familiar, couldn’t help but bring back an innate, animalistic panic—

 

And then, through the nothingness, she heard voices in her head. The first was quiet, detached, almost inanimate, whispering haunting nothings that gave her chills; but the second was fiery, loud, and filled with a somehow familiar rage, spreading a blistering heat through her body; and the two went back and forth, the second voice growing angrier as the first one slowly became more and more insistent. It spoke about familiarity, told her, _“Doesn’t this feel_ right _?”_ and the second one fought, said _no_ , _it feels wrong_ —“This is _my body_ , not your umbrella hellspace,” but she couldn’t understand them, just could feel the cold and the heat and could hear the two fighting until she couldn’t feel or hear anymore, and she grabbed her hair and pulled it tight and she _screamed_. She pulled her hair and pressed her hands against her crying eyes and scratched her arms until they bled if only just to feel something different, to hear something different, to focus on anything but the war inside her head, the conflict she knew so well yet somehow couldn’t recognize at all.

 

She fell on her knees, still screaming, still burning up in the pain of her nothingness, and Barry ran to her, knowing her trauma all too well, taking her hands and balling them into fists so she wouldn’t scratch herself and squeezing her tight. But this time she didn’t calm down, instead worming her arms out of her husband’s grasp and opening her hands to cover her ears. But it was still so, so loud, it didn’t help, no matter how much she squeezed and then tried to pull her ears before Barry pulled her hands away, letting the redness in her ears fade. And that seemed to make her angrier, made her kick and scream more and her body flared with an unnatural heat— _“Let me out,”_ the second voice yelled at the first—and Barry recoiled, half in shock from it all, because Lup had bad days but it was never like _this_.

 

And after Lup wrestled free of Barry’s grasp, sparks of red lightning flicked across her body and she lurched forward in pain, falling on her hands and knees and breathing deep, heavy breaths, her tears falling quickly onto the grass in front of her; and she grasped the grass with white knuckles and let herself cry. She let herself cry, for a moment, noticing the second voice grow calmer, shutting down the first voice with annoyance instead of anger, going, “Let’s not kill everyone in this clearing, keep it together, girl,” but then when Barry tried to hold her again, putting her in his lap and hugging her tightly and speaking in a soft voice, her breathing grew faster and she trembled in his grasp and her hands kept flying to her face or her arms because she knew she needed to feel, that there was something _wrong_ about the emptiness inside of her and something even more wrong with the way she was being trapped. But as she kept trying Barry kept holding her back, kept pushing her hands away and locking her legs in place; and the longer she stayed stuck in his grasp the more tired she became, her movements slowly regressing to spasms and then eventually just to the trembling of a broken, crying girl, breathing heavily as she sobbed against Barry’s chest.

 

* * *

 

Usually, Barry noted, squeezing her calmed her down, the outside stimulus slowly bringing her back to reality. This time, he had to physically tire her out to reach her, and it _scared_ him, but at least it would be over soon. Merle would heal her as soon as the necromancer was gone, and then it would all end, but he couldn’t help but think about the effect the spell had on her as Kravitz healed her self-inflicted wounds, humming under his breath. It was interesting, he noted, the way she almost went lich despite not having access to her magic; every person reacted differently to enchantment, sure, but there was something unique about the tantrum Lup had just had. Whether it was her lichdom or her past trauma that caused it he didn’t know, but it struck him as odd; he’d do more research into it, when the trauma wasn’t fresh.

He couldn’t dwell on his curiosity forever, though, not when Lup was hurt. Not when Kravitz looked at him with concerned eyes after he was done, not when Lucretia seemed almost as destroyed as Lup did just from seeing her break, not when Taako— _holy shit, Taako_ —wiped his hands nonchalantly from the most gruesome spellcasting Barry had ever seen and walked over to Lup, his lower lip and hands trembling as the coldness of his anger at the necromancer dropped with the kill.

 

He’d save it, he thought, still looking at the way Taako’s eyes brimmed with tears, for another day.

 

* * *

 

The illusory barrier they all stood behind instantly broke with Lup’s first scream, and while everyone wanted to rush forward and help, Taako made sure they didn’t, knowing Lup needed her space; and, of course, he wanted to deal with the necromancer himself. So Barry couldn’t _really_ watch as he walked up to the necromancer, slow, cool, calm, collected, because he was busy with Lup, but the rest of them did, noticing the stiffness of his step and his tight grip on his wand and the way his ears perked up in anger. The necromancer watched too, but he saw Taako’s _face_ , noticing the way he thought mechanically through his anger, watching him wave his wand and cause a pillar of stone to emerge from the ground for him to lean on. And he couldn’t help but keep looking at him, even as Taako pocketed the wand and reached out his hand, palm facing the sky above him, and muttered a spell under his breath, even as he strained under the Telekinesis he had just watched Taako cast; he didn’t take his eyes off of his face, not once, not even as Taako lifted a finger and he floated into the air, not until Taako’s fingers tensed and his hand widened and then he clenched his fist, and the necromancer saw nothing but red anymore.

 

Taako didn’t change his expression as he watched the necromancer’s body collapse on itself, though, so it wasn’t like the guy would have missed anything. His face didn’t change, not once, not as he heard the cracking of broken bones, not when he saw his ribs collapse inward from the pressure and his individual vertebrae pop out of place, not when he saw his shoulders and hips and elbows dislocate, his limbs twisting at weird angles, not when the blood came pouring out of his nose and his lips. He stayed numb to it all, and no one dared protest either, not even when Taako’s hand relaxed and let the body go limp in the air only to crush it again, this time putting more pressure on the body, watching as already snapped bones broke through his skin and his head caved in, and then taking that corpse and letting it go limp again and doing it over, and over, and over, making sure to contort it in every way he could, as if his long-dead body could somehow feel the pain.

(If he hurt him enough, then maybe his soul would pop out of his body, and he could crush that too.)

 

So he kept toying with the corpse until he grew tired of watching, until the necromancer’s first and only scream of pain didn’t linger in his mind anymore, and then he channeled a Disintegrate, turning him molecule by molecule into ash, watching one by one as they fell and settled on the grass, letting his body turn slowly, yet insignificantly, into dust. He let it take minutes, would have let it take hours were it not for his sister behind him, and then, when he was done, cast a Gust of Wind so no one would ever know someone died there.

 

Only then did he go to Lup, only then did he let his facade drop slightly, the mask of calm almost disappearing from his face, and called Merle over to “hurry the fuck up and heal her.”

 

And only when he did, when Lup looked up at her family surrounding her and said, “Fuck, I need some Fantasy Advil,” did Taako really, actually, let himself cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who's ready for some Blupjeans?
> 
> They're a thing. I love them. They're coming to you. Be ready.


	8. Barry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kravitz is the butt of a few jokes. Barry has an epic fight scene.
> 
> Lup tries not to panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell yeah, two in one - It's so fitting to publish both Barry and Lup together, isn't it?
> 
> Anyways - thank you to [Tess, the light of my life and the star in my sky](archiveofourown.org/users/stargirls), for beta-ing this fic today, and to [Kipp](archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyKipp) for indirectly teaching me the meaning of Blupjeans through goosh, and the gay chat for being gay, and then to all of you! This fic is nearing its conclusion, and that wouldn't have happened without all the amazing feedback I've gotten, so keep up the good work <3
> 
> I'm just getting sentimental, but it's been so wonderful writing this - I've grown a lot as a person and as a writer, and am really excited to move on to something new - and I probably would have stopped a long time ago if it weren't for like? That one comment, or that one kudos milestone or whatever. So thank you, the last chapter will probably be up around my finals week when I'm procrastinating, and have fun with these two in the meantime!

They got to the clearing to find more than just the one necromancer.

Instead, there was a small crowd of hooded figures holding large sacks of magical merchandise, chatting almost casually as they walked; and Lup couldn’t help but—did she just  _ smirk?— _ at the sight, casting Clairvoyance under her breath to check their bags. “Never thought component shopping would be a cultish bonding activity.”

“Never thought it’d be romantic, either, yet here you two are,” Kravitz responded, deadpan, flipping through the pages of his book.

“Says the one whose husband gets turned on by his skeleton form.” Lup couldn’t really hold her smirk back with that one; not with Barry’s muffled giggle as he flickered in and back out of view, walking ahead of the cult to try and match names—and souls—to faces. 

“Said  _ husband _ is right here, Lulu.” Taako put his hands over Angus’s ears as he said it, ignoring the repeated insistences of  _ Sir, it’s fine! _ and squirms coming from the definitely-old-enough-to-hear-it boy. 

“Said husband doesn’t know when to shut up,” she joked, cutting her spell short just as Kravitz closed his book. “So boss, what’s the plan? We go in scythes blazing?” 

“Well—yes, but—“

“Oh shit, scythes blazing?” Magnus’s eyes lit up, suddenly excited, and Lup looked back at him with a smirk.

“Wait,” Kravitz called, noticing Lup counting down with her fingers. “Just be—“

With that the two jumped out of the trees, intending to roll into formation before landing, with a crash, on top of a no-longer-invisible Barry. He couldn’t help but blush at Lup and Magnus—the whole cult, hearing the noise, had turned back to look at them—who, upon realizing they had made a scene, waved awkwardly from under a laughing Lup and Magnus to the cult above him.  “So… I heard you like death?”

Kravitz sighed, muttering  _ I was going to say be careful _ as he walked out of the bushes and summoned his scythe. “Well, you know the rules, I assume. If you surrender now, we just might not kill you. If not, then...” He trailed off, for a moment, letting his skin fade into his skeletal form.  “If not, we’ll have to take you to the Stockade.”

The leader of the cult—marked by the gold trim on her hood and the way everyone looked at her for guidance—looked down at the three on the ground, then over at the crowd behind the bushes, then up at Kravitz, and her eyes widened for a moment before turning to the man next to her. “Stay there and keep them busy, will you?”

He nodded as she smirked, turning on her heel and sauntering off, the rest of the cult following her into the trees.

Barry caught Lup’s eyes as he turned to Kravitz, noticing the way the fire in his eyes flared as the cult disappeared from view. “You going to follow them?” 

He sighed. “Do I have a choice?”

“Well—” Lup frowned. “If you’re going to face all of them, you’re going to need backup. There’s no way in hell any of us are letting you go alone.” She thought about it, for a moment. “But this guy probably only needs one of us, so someone should take care of him while the rest of us go ahead.”

Kravitz glanced at the crowd around him, then back at the sole remaining necromancer, then back at everyone else. “Any volunteers?”

“I’ll—” Magnus started, only to get interrupted.

“I’ll stay.” Barry spoke up instead of him. “Someone’s gotta reap him when he’s dead.”

“You sure, dude?” Magnus took his hand off the hilt of his sword. “Because I can—”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Plus I can teleport to you when I’m done.”

Magnus shrugged. “If you need backup, though, let me know.”

“Got it.” Barry smiled, then turned to Lup as she dropped a kiss on his cheek.

“Rock his socks off for me, will you?” She smiled, squeezing his hand once before leaving to catch up with Kravitz and the rest of the crowd, and Barry watched her go before summoning his scythe.

“You bet I will.”

 

* * *

 

The necromancer stared at Barry.

Barry stared back.

“Is your family always that much of a mess?”

“Does your cult always take their fifth level trainees on shopping trips?”

He shrugged, and pulled out his wand, casting a Ray of Sickness almost casually and letting Barry sidestep. The necromancer laughed as he dodged the attack, letting tendrils of darkness reach out of Barry’s scythe-less hand toward him.

“You aren’t trying really hard, aren’t you?”

“You all would have killed me.” He stopped Barry’s spell with his own, ribbons of negative energy spiraling from his wand. “At least now I have a chance.”

“Do you?” Barry’s form flickered, channeling the lich energy sparking at his fingertips into a spell of his own. “Because I’m going to kill you, too.”

He snickered, trying not to wince at the lightning that grazed his shoulder, and stomped his foot on the ground, watching the plants die around him. “You can try.”

Barry looked down and then his body dissolved, a red robe forming over his skeletal reaper form as he floated off the ground and dodged the attack. “Alright,” he said, his voice echoing with power. “It’s on, then.”

He flew towards the necromancer, scythe in hand, swiping at him with unnatural speed, and the necromancer summoned two shadowy daggers to counter it; the two blades clashed, and they backed up and tried again. They went at it for a bit, hand to hand, Barry blocking his offhand with the hilt of his scythe and the necromancer himself letting darkness wreath his body as the space between them went black; Barry took a hit, then, tendrils of magic and daggers attacking him from every direction, and he winced as a wave of force pulsed outward from his form and pushed the necromancer across the clearing. 

The necromancer focused, muttering an incantation from where he fell, and Barry stuck a skeletal finger in his direction, and the two flinched as they felt the life force leave them; then, as they shook it off, they began the fast-paced fight all over again. The necromancer’s shadow-covered hand grabbed a black tendril from Barry and launched an orb of acid to blast him backwards, only for Barry to launch a blue Fireball in return; the necromancer blocked it with a shield of his own fire and shot lightning at Barry, but it hit the ground as he rolled and launched a spell at him, and sickly green light exploded from where the necromancer once stood. He countered with a cloud of poison gas, only for Barry to respond with an Acid Arrow, and the spells went back and forth, from Ray of Frost to Lightning Bolt to Counterspell to Ray of Sickness to Chill Touch to a Blight from Barry, which left the necromancer lying on the ground and Barry walking towards him, scythe in hand.

And Barry got closer, and the necromancer started muttering a spell in a raspy, desperate, voice, and Barry looked down at him and smirked, and held his scythe high—but then— _ why does it hurt I shouldn’t be corporeal _ —he stepped back, and back again, and— _ it’s my stomach he hit me with a spell it hurts but what is it _ —he lurched forward, falling to his knees, and— _ it hurts—it’s—why does it _ —the spell worked its way into his brain, and— _ what’s—why can’t I— _ he fell on his side, and— _ who am I _ —he felt the world spinning around him and— _ I’m _ —his vision fade and— _ I _ —everything went black.

 

* * *

 

Lup went back to look for Barry after the fight.

They had made slow work of the necromancers at first, making sure to give Angus a spectacle, but when the one fighting Barry came back alone the battle ended in an instant. Lup’s fire rained on the battlefield, devouring every necromancer in an explosion of heat and leaving her friends unharmed. Even with her careful spell-shaping, everyone saw the tears in her eyes; they all saw the tears, and the way her lip bled when she bit it, and the way she threw her scythe to the ground when she stormed in the other direction. She only started running once she disappeared from sight, only let the tears drip down her cheeks when she was sure no one saw them, only let herself panic when it encouraged her to run faster—

She realized she hadn’t been breathing when she reached the clearing and found Barry, curled up on the ground, the grass around him dead and burnt and stained with drops of blood.

She hesitated, at that moment. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but she stopped when she saw him, watched him stare blankly ahead for a few moments before a spark of red lightning shot through his body and caused him to recoil further in pain. But seeing him cave in snapped her out of her trance, and she walked over to him, noticing how his hands were pressed tightly against his stomach, and the cuts and burns on his arms oozed with necromantic magic, and that there was a new crack in his glasses and a tear in his jeans, and that he was sobbing, his cries raspy and heavy enough to make his whole body shake.

So she approached him, trying to stay calm to counter his panic, and when he saw her he inhaled sharply, snapping out of his shock to look up at her with… he looked up at her with  _ awe _ . She crouched down and put a hand on his knee, and he shivered at the touch. “H-Hey, Bear?”

His eyes widened when she spoke, but he didn’t say anything; didn’t move or react or respond, and Lup frowned. “Barry, I’m right here. You’ll be okay.”

He didn’t answer, again, and she cursed under her breath. It was only then that she realized why the light had disappeared from his eyes, and that his silence wasn’t just shock from the wounds. She  _ knew _ what had happened to him, then, recognized it from old spellbooks and scary campfire stories and centuries of experience, but she also recognized the awe that had returned to his gaze when he first saw her. He stared at her as if he saw the heavens through her eyes yet somehow didn’t understand what he saw, couldn’t see what was so special about her besides the fact that she  _ was _ special, couldn’t comprehend the magnificence that was Lup but also couldn’t quite comprehend anything at all. It was a look empty of comprehension and yet filled with revelation, and it filled her with tears, with anger, because someone had taken away his personality and his thought and his  _ humanity  _ but even with all of him gone, he still saw the universe in her.

So she held back her anger and her tears and sat down in front of him, and Barry blinked at her, still seemingly in shock. She took his hands gently off his stomach and helped him sit, and he crawled into her embrace as soon as he was upright. He fit snugly into her lap, and rested his head on her shoulder. She started to trace her fingers along his back as he wrapped his arms around hers.

Lup couldn’t help but lose herself to his touch, then, repeating the same motions in almost perfect silence for a minute. She broke into soft laughter when he got the chills, and at that, he leaned back and looked at her. She looked back at him, his eyes twinkling with leftover tears and what seemed like  _ hope,  _ and brought up a hand to wipe his eyes gently and pecked him on the nose, watching with pride as the blush spread across his face. He put a hand to her cheek and let it drift to her hair, and the blush spread to  _ her _ face, and she let him examine her, let him take in every bit of her as she leaned into his touch.

Her hands dropped to his arms, circling one of the fresh cuts and pressing on it, attempting to stop his bleeding before whispering, “I should probably call the others.”

He hummed at her in question, and she leaned back, finding her Stone of Farspeech and dialing Taako’s frequency. Barry stared at it in curiosity.

“Hey, ‘Ko?”

“Oh, shit, is Barold okay?”

“I mean, yeah,” Lup said quietly. “But he’s going to need Merle to come here.”

“Don’t let him die while we get here, then.” She could almost hear Taako’s worry, the way his lips would purse and his ears would flatten, and hoped silently that Barry didn’t have the mental capacity to tell.

“I won’t,” she said, then hung up, letting the Stone fall back against her chest only for Barry to pick it up and stare at it.

“You probably don’t know what that is anymore, do you?”

He looked up at her for a moment, then back down at the Stone, holding it in between their faces. She took it back from him, tapping it quietly to make it glow, and watched as his eyes lit up.

“It  _ is  _ pretty cool, isn’t it?” She smiled, and Barry remained transfixed, holding it gently in his hands and turning it over. He tried to tap it, even though nothing would happen. “You could use it to call people, if you knew how.”

He kept looking at it, then put it down when the glow faded.

“It makes you not take stuff for granted.” She said it almost quietly. “Kind of like you’re realizing everything all over again.”

He looked at her, his fingers slipping into hers almost naturally, and she sighed and squeezed his hand.

“I’m glad you’re still you?” She laughed nervously. “Like, that sounds weird, especially because you’re not supposed to be  _ you _ , and you aren’t you—but you also still  _ care _ .”

He hummed in response, almost sounding— _ content? _ —before holding her close again.

“You have that same look for everything you think is cool, y’know? Like that ‘holy shit, the world itself has changed’ look.” She smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “It’s pretty cute.”

He stayed quiet.

“You looked at me like that.” Her smile turned sad. “Kinda like the first time we met, but it’s been a hundred years already, and somehow you  _ still _ have a crush on me.”

He sighed, a soft and happy sigh, and she realized how content he was in her arms. How much he loved her.

“Hey, Bear?” She leaned back and looked at him.

He smiled at her, as if realizing she was there all over again.

“I love you too.”

 

* * *

Merle healed him while he was still in her embrace, and she couldn’t help but kiss him as the smile returned to his face. It was frantic, desperate, filled with the relief she didn’t know how to express, and she didn’t care if everyone stared at her, didn’t care if the gods themselves looked down from above and wanted her to get a room; she only cared about the light in his eyes when he pulled away, the little wrinkles he had when he smiled at her, and the softness in his voice as he said, “I love you, but can we take this home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all the birds [and Kravitz, if you haven't read that one yet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13984770) done!! Up next?
> 
> Oh, y'know ;)
> 
> (Also - if anyone wants to talk to me about how guilty Magnus must have felt after all of this, you're welcome to, because I didn't think of that until Just Now and now I'm _sad_ )


End file.
